


Out of place

by ca_te



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ca_te/pseuds/ca_te
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written on 23 September 2009. Written for dn_contest over at Livejournal.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Out of place

**Author's Note:**

> Written on 23 September 2009. Written for dn_contest over at Livejournal.

Mello looks at the sun slowly falling on the city. The streets and the buildings down below seem bones in the stomach of some huge monster.

The evening is windy and he shivers. The apartment is silent. He sent Matt to buy something to eat almost a hour ago. He knows that probably the red-head is losing time with porn journals and flirting with the cashier.

Mello imagines Matt's hands on the counter. They are callous, and his fingers short. Somewhere the skin got burnt because of a forgotten cigarette.

The sounds of car horns and sirens rise like smoke towards the sky.

Is not that Mello really likes highs, the fact is that Matt wanted "to see the freaking landscape, Mels"! That's how they have ended up in this hole of apartment on the sixth floor.

Mello imagines Matt walking, his hands in his pockets, the lights of the shops' windows reflected in his goggles' lenses. There's something in the dirt of this city that attract Matt, and Mello doesn't like it when this "something" leads the red-head out of reach.

Mello turns his back to the window. He unwraps a bar of chocolate.

He likes the way it breaks under his teeth, the precise sound that it makes. Once, they were still at Wammy's, Matt told him that the sounds he made eating chocolate were like the ones of comic books. He said something like crunch. Mello doesn't like to think that he likes chocolate so much because of what Matt said.

The clock pours its useless tick and tack in the room, and there's something tugging at the corners of Mello's mind, 'cause even if Matt could have decided to fuck the cashier right there on the spot it's freaking too late. Mello's boots are heavy on the floor as he walks like a little animal in a cage. He stumbles in sheets of paper, comics and boxes of take-away Chinese food, he curses through his teeth every time.

Outside the cars are only strings of light moving along the concrete veins of the city. It is in moments like this that Mello hates LA, the way it makes every thing get lost, the fact that it doesn't give back anything.

When the phone rings in his pocket he feels the blood rushing to his heart like in a freaking car race. But the id that appears on the screen is not Matt's and Mello just wants to break something. Yeah they always kept repeating him that he had anger issues, but L used to say he was "just Mello". God knows how much Mello had loved L for that, and how much he had continued to love him.

 

The corridors are so white that Mello's eyes hurt. He wonders if Matt's eyes had hurt too, he wonders if his goggles are broken.

The smell of disinfectant seems to crawl over the tiles, to follow the nurses as they walk rapidly from a room to the other. Mello sits and digs his nails in his palms. The plastic chair is hard against his back, the people around him sit in silence, some of them have company, some of them are alone. Mello tries to fight the desire to shout, to find a doctor and punching him right in the face. Why the hell does he have to wait! What is this crap that he is not a relative? But somehow he can't explain to these idiots wearing white gowns how things are, he can't explain that he and Matt have only each other and nothing more. It doesn't matter if Mello shouts and acts like a drama queen, it doesn't matter if Matt ends up in bed with some girl now and then. There are things that can't be changed. Silently Mello holds his head with his hands, they are scratched, some cuts are bleeding, he just couldn't avoid to slam his fist against the wall when Rod told him that some guys had beaten up Matt.

Mello doesn't like hospitals. 'Cause they are like LA, they usually don't give precious things back, they are freaking thieves behind the cover of white tiles and gowns and smiling nurses.

His mother died in a place like that, with no one really caring about her 'cause her heart was just too ruined. He remembers sitting on an old chair, his hears full of the stupid sounds of useless machinery. There were green and red lines going up and down a screen, Mello knew perfectly what they meant, although he was only six years old, but he didn't want to know.

When a man, supposedly a doctor, comes to call him, Mello doesn't look at him, he keeps his gaze on his boots.

The room is little, it reeks even more of disinfectant. It seems made of cardboard, like toys for poor kids. Matt's hair seem ever redder over the anonymous gray of the pillow.

-Hey Mels! It took you quite a lot, uh?

Matt grins, his eyes shining a little more surrounded by the black of an haematoma, and Mello doesn't understand anymore if he wants to punch or to kiss him, to cry or to laugh.

They told him that he had anger issues, many times, but they never told him what to do if his best friend would end up like that because of his mob's issues.

There aren't many things that Mello hasn't learnt to deal with, but this is one of those and he just stands there, his scratched hands abandoned at his sides looking at Matt.

-Uh? Are you okay, Mels?

Mello shakes his head and walks closer to the bed. On the night stand there are a glass of water and Matt's goggles, one of the lenses is broken.

-I'm the one who should ask that, you idiot!

Mello wishes he could just say out loud "I thank God 'cause you are alright" but he knows he just can't, he is the one with issues right?

So he simply runs his fingers lightly through the mess of Matt's hair.

-If you want you can go, I know you hate the smell of disinfectant.

Mello lets a corner of his mouth rise up.

-Do you doubt I can stand it?

The red-head chuckles, he knows well how to play chess with Mello's mind.

-Of course not, you brave man!

Matt's laugh seems out of place, resonating in a place of medicines and stethoscopes. But Mello knows better, they are just like this, perpetually out of place.

-Guess I owe you the chocolate I couldn't bring back home.

Mello sits on the bed and ruffles Matt's hair.

-Idiot! Instead I guess I'll have to buy you another pair of goggles.

Mello feels embarassed, but there's no one else in the little cardboard room, just him and Matt, and it feels good to know that even if in this tricky city, even if always out of place, even with scratched hand and black eyes they can still think that they are not alone.


End file.
